


The Calls

by Requin



Category: Holby City
Genre: 5 Times, F/F, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, phone shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 03:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Requin/pseuds/Requin
Summary: Between Holby and Nairobi, 5 times Serena and Bernie keep it confined to phone calls.





	The Calls

1.

They have experience doing this by now. It’s easy enough to work out the time difference and to make sure no-one disturbs them. If they are still at work, they are in high-enough positions to ensure privacy for at least an hour. In Holby, Serena makes her P.A. divert her calls. In Nairobi, Bernie does the same. It works. 

Depending on the strength of the connection they either have video or not. When she’s at work, Serena doesn’t mind only having Bernie’s voice on the other end of the line. She’d rather save the treat of seeing Bernie’s face for when she’s at home, in bed. 

At 5p.m. exactly, 8p.m. Nairobi time, Serena’s phone rings and Serena’s face lights up.

“Good evening Major,” Serena says, a smile in her voice. 

Her entire body relaxes as she sits behind her desk and she hears Bernie’s voice. Her eyes go to the picture on her desk and her heart beats a little faster.

Bernie is telling her about her day, her voice warm and happy as she talks about Samuel, her favourite Junior Doctor, and his ongoing romantic saga with Esther, a rather formidable paramedic. She laughs at the sound of Bernie’s honk, and feels her worries ebb away. When the story ends with poor Samuel thwarted yet again, Serena takes a breath.

“And how was your day? Is Ric any better?” Bernie asks.

Serena pictures her in her office. She’s seen it on Skype. The walls are covered in dark wood panels and the green carpet makes the room look like the office of the stern headmaster of a boys boarding school. Bernie looked strangely at home in it. Her degrees and her medals are on the walls, more to impress the men of the compound than for an ego boost. The doctors are almost all male, and Bernie has found that exhibiting achievements saves time. 

“He’s all better, which unfortunately means he’s on his way back to prison,” Serena says with a sigh.

Bernie makes sympathetic noises. Although infuriating at the best of times, Ric is a good friend that has been there for them time and time again. 

“But I wanted to tell you about something else. I do hope you’re sitting down,” Serena continues, with enough levity to reassure Bernie. 

“What could Holby City have possibly thrown at you now?” Bernie asks dryly.

“Well… not so much Holby City as Jason,” Serena replies. 

“Is he okay?” Bernie asks, alarm colouring her voice.

Serena smiles at how much Bernie cares.

“Yes, yes, he’s all right. I met Greta, his girlfriend, today. Turns out she’s pregnant,” Serena announces.

The silence is deafening.

“With… with Jason’s baby?” Bernie stutters.

For a second Serena thinks of responding with sarcasm, something along the lines of ‘No, with E.T.’s baby.’ But she’s not sure Bernie would get the reference. Plus, she might not be ready to joke about it yet. 

“Yes. And she’s already 4 months along.”

“God, that’s… I don’t know what to say. How’s Jason taking it?”

“Well, he was rather shell-shocked, they both were. But he seems excited, and he loves her. And I’ll be there to help.”

Saying the words out loud makes her feel better, makes the situation seem more manageable.

“And I’ll be there too, Serena. I’ll make sure my leave coincides with the birth.”

It’s like a weight has been lifted from Serena’s shoulders. For here is Bernie, putting Serena’s needs first again, as she has many times before. Having a reliable partner still feels novel after the disasters that were her previous relationships.

“Thank you, darling.” 

“Anything for you, Serena.”

The quiet promise rings throughout the room. 

“So, Great Auntie Serena. We’re going to have to come up with a name that’s easier to say,” Bernie says, chirpy once more. “There’s a soap here called Auntie Boss. I quite like that.” 

Serena laughs, her heart lighter than it has been all day. She traces Bernie’s face on the photo in front of her and tries to keep a straight face as her partner reels off more and more preposterous nicknames. 

 

2.

Serena knows straightaway that something is wrong. 

Bernie’s voice is clipped, her sentences short. The wine remains untouched on the coffee table and Serena decides to head to bed for this conversation. 

It’s bad. Really bad. 

An election rally that turned from peaceful to extremely violent. The fledging trauma unit that Bernie has been setting up barely managed. 

“And the children, Serena. There was this little girl and she…she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she got shot in the face,” Bernie sobs. “She died in my arms. I couldn’t even start treatment.” 

Serena closes her eyes. Her heart squeezes painfully. It’s times like these when Serena desperately wishes things were different. She wishes she was with Bernie to share all her burdens. 

For one selfish second she wishes Hanssen had never called. She imagines standing under the harsh Kenyan sun. She pictures working with Bernie again, enjoying their faultless theatre work. She fantasises about outings in national parks, Bernie in shorts and tanned and beautiful. But she quickly shakes her head, for Bernie needs her. No point in daydreaming. They both had to make hard choices. 

“I am so sorry, darling. So, so sorry. But there was nothing you could do,” Serena says gently. 

“I know, I know. It’s just, such a waste, you know? The mother was wailing and screaming, and Samuel was sick just hearing it,” Bernie continues. 

Serena knows what to do. She’s been there, or a variation of it at least. She lets Bernie talk. Lets her exorcise her horrible day. The words start coming more easily, and in the end she seems calmer. Serena bets Bernie bottled it all up while at the hospital. She’s glad she can at least help Bernie like this. 

It’s a poor substitute but it will have to do. 

“I’m sorry. All I’ve done is talk about these horrible things,” Bernie says, her voice steadier. 

“Never apologise for needing to talk things through. I will always be there for you. Or at least, a phone call away,” Serena says firmly. 

She can hear Bernie smile and she misses her so much in that moment that tears prick her eyes. She looks up at the ceiling and she pushes them back. This is not the time to be reminded of the distance currently separating them. 

“How’s Greta?” Bernie asks, and Serena allows the change of subjects to give her Major the space she needs. 

“Jason calls me ten times a day to ask me the most ridiculous things. Thought Greta’s face was too swollen this morning. Poor girl was absolutely fine. Her ego, however…” Serena trails off with a snort. 

Bernie chuckles and Serena hears rustling. She must be snuggled up in bed. Serena knows there’s a photo of her on the nightstand, a shot taken in France amongst the vines. Serena glances to her right and smiles at the picture of Bernie hanging on the wall. She had bribed Bernie with wine and slow kisses to get her to pose under the olive tree in the middle of their Provencal village. 

The end result shows Bernie leaning on the trunk with a teasing smirk that Serena is particularly fond of.

“You love it really,” Bernie is saying. “Thanks for sending me the scan pictures. Everything looks good. Healthy little girl in there.” 

Serena beams despite all her apprehensions. 

“And I trust you’ve seen Morven’s photos? They’re not doing a lot of work apparently, what with all the beach outings,” Serena quips. 

“You’re just jealous because it’s minus 2 in Holby.”

“Yes I seem to be the only one in this family that complains about the cold.”

Serena stops. The air seems to have rushed out of her lungs. She feels a little lightheaded. While they have talked about love and their future together, this is the first time Serena has lumped everyone together. 

Bernie, her, Jason, Greta and their unborn daughter, Cameron and Morven, Charlotte, they might not have spent much time all together, but Serena loves them all. 

“You’ll have to help me find an appropriate name,” Bernie says softly. 

“What?”

“Great-Auntie Bernie is quite the mouthful,” Bernie continues. 

Serena doesn’t stop the tears from falling this time. Her heart is full to bursting. 

“We’ll think of something,” she replies, her voice all watery. 

And she knows they will, as they always have done. Together. 

 

3.

Serena lies down as best she can. The sofa is lumpy, the lighting harsh, and the noises of the hospital clang on the other side of the door. She sighs, tired to her very bones, her eyes itching and her skin tight. 

It’s past 2am. 

She closes her eyes, turns on her side, tries to get comfortable. She hasn’t slept on anything this uncomfortable since her stay at Kopan, the Buddhist monastery on the outskirts of Kathmandu. The kinks in her back from that month spent meditating and sleeping on thin tatamis still make themselves known now. 

She really need to sleep. There are a hundred things she needs to do in a few hours. She breathes in and out. Centres herself. As usual, Bernie comes to her mind. Blond hair tied back, a white linen shirt with a few buttons opened, long tanned legs on show. Serena smiles. A familiar flush creeps up her chest. 

“Well, that’s not going to help me sleep,” she mutters. 

Instead of lusting after her absent partner, Serena choses a soothing memory. An afternoon spent reading and sunbathing in the south of France, by the local lake. A time remembered fondly because Serena had convinced Bernie to wear a ridiculous straw hat. 

Before she knows it, nurse Jackson is calling her name. She sits up and waves Donna away. It’s 7.30am and she has to start her day. After a shower and a change of clothes, she considers the broken bed and is wondering what to do about it, when her phone rings. 

It’s Bernie. She smiles. She can hear a busy ward in the background and marvels at how hospitals around the world sound the same. 

“And how’s your morning so far, Ms Wolfe?” She asks as she sips her first coffee. 

“Tell her about the kitten!” Serena hears a male voice shout in the background. 

“The kitten? Have you been saving small animals, Bernie?” Serena asks with a laugh. 

Bernie chuckles and the sound warms Serena’s chest. Suddenly a night spent kipping on a sofa doesn’t seem so bad. She crouches to get a look at the broken bed. 

“No, although I did have to swerve to avoid a stray dog getting into work earlier. No, I arrived this morning and there was a kitten on my desk.” 

Serena snorts.

“Secret admirer?” She asks dryly. 

“Hardly. Samuel thinks it came in through an open window. I plan on getting it dewormed and giving it to the hospice. They have a mouse problem,” Bernie explains. 

The lives they lead, Serena thinks wryly. 

“And how was your night? Did you get called in?” Bernie asks, and now Serena can hear outside noises and children laughing. 

The hospital is near a school, and Bernie likes to take her breaks in the park the two buildings share.

Bernie listens as she recounts her night. Laughs with her at the tale of awkwardly examining Greta, and commiserates at her unnecessary call in. 

“In your pyjamas?! Which ones?” Bernie asks incredulously. 

“The black ones, you know, with the dots.” 

She hears Bernie inhale sharply. 

“Oh, I know the ones. You’re telling me half the hospital saw you in your silkiest pair of sleepwear?” 

Serena tries to hide a smile. 

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, darling? Because I can assure you Dr McKendrick and Mr Malik are far too interested in each other to pay me any attention, silk or not,” Serena says, highly amused. 

Bernie grumbles something about gouging everyone’s eyes out just to be on the safe side. It certainly boosts Serena’s ego. 

“Anyway, I better get on. Call you later?” Serena sighs, always disappointed to let Bernie go. 

“Yes, please. Let’s make it 7 your time? Samuel is taking me for dinner at his parents’.”

“Ah, and what will Esther say?” Serena asks, scandalised. 

“I think the jig was up after I showed her about fifty photos of you.” 

Serena blushes, very pleased. 

“Very liberal, Esther is. Also pretty relieved to know I was taken, even if she still won’t give Samuel a chance,” Bernie says with a smile in her voice. 

“Well tell the lad to persevere, poor thing. And I’ll speak to you at 7. I love you,” Serena says, her heart quickening as always at those three words. 

It still feels precious, declaring her love, and she hopes that will never change. 

“I love you too,” Bernie replies.

And oh to hear those words in return, still laced with awe. Serena hangs up with a smile on her lips, ready for whatever Holby has in store for her. 

Step one: call maintenance to fix that bed and then have a little chat with Dr McKendrick. 

4.

Serena kicks off her heels with a groan. Her calves and the soles of her feet are killing her. Another long-winded party with horrendous food and the most boring speeches she’s ever heard. Sometimes she wonders why her younger self wanted the CEO position that badly. It’s a thankless job, and the power trip is no longer heady enough to counteract the tedious bureaucracy and the arrogant subordinates. 

She sighs. Rolls her neck as she grabs a bottle of her favourite vintage. The wine at the reception had been subpar and so she had abstained. She makes her way up the stairs, happy that Jason is at Greta’s and that she hasn’t been called with an emergency. Her nephew seems a bit calmer about the whole thing now that Greta has started to show. 

She turns on her bedside lamp, the room now bathed in a soothing orange glow. It’s past midnight, but she has tomorrow off. She checks her phone for the calendar with Bernie’s shifts and smiles. Bernie is off the next day as well, and should just have made it home after a late afternoon start. 

Bernie answers her phone at the second ring. 

“How much did you manage to swindle?” Bernie asks. 

Serena can hear traffic noises. Bernie must be on her balcony. It overlooks a busy street, but Bernie says she enjoys watching people come and go. 

“I’ll have you know our kind and generous donators willingly parted with their money, and that it should be enough to secure that research project that the ED has been pestering me about,” Serena says as she pours herself a glass. 

“A successful evening then,” Bernie congratulates her. 

“Marginally. I was stuck next to this boorish man at dinner. Had to listen to him list his every achievement, and then he had the gall to suggest women were too distracting in theatre. Almost strangled him.” 

Bernie laughs, the honk probably startling a few bats. 

“Well, I’m sorry, but I agree with him. You were always far too distracting. In theatre and outside of it,” she says, and her voice is suddenly lower. 

Serena blinks. She gulps down her wine, scoots onto the bed and sits against the pillows and the headboard. 

“Oh yes?” She says, and she makes sure to turn on what Bernie has named ‘The Voice’. 

The interesting happy consequence of spending months with someone and learning about them, is finding out what makes then tick. Both Serena and Bernie were excellent and very willing students. 

During her most trying hours, Serena likes to think back to that afternoon, when she discovered how much Bernie really liked her voice. Liked hearing Serena vocalise her appreciation in great detail. Liked having Serena list all the things she wanted to do to her. And that was easy for Serena, because she was always very appreciative and she wanted to do a great many things to Bernie. 

“Oh yes. Very distracting. Would you like me to tell you a story, Serena?” Bernie asks, and Serena feels her pulse race. 

She can hear Bernie move around, probably turning off lights around her flat. 

“What kind of story?” Serena asks, already rubbing her thighs together in anticipation. 

There is a rustling, and Serena knows Bernie has just got into bed. She dims the light, reaches around her torso to lower the zipper of her dress and tosses it aside. This is going to be good, she thinks, her throat dry. 

“A true story. One that I haven’t told you before, I think. It’s about the moment I realised I was attracted to you.” 

Serena inhales sharply, heart racing. Bernie is a bit of a clam when it comes to talking about her feelings, so this is a rare treat. They have talked more about their future than their past, because the past contains a few too many painful memories. 

But this, Serena would give all her worldly possessions to hear.

“Would that be of interest?” Bernie asks teasingly. 

Serena realises with a jolt that she hasn’t answered. 

“Yes. Yes, it would. Very much so,” she replies, lest Bernie changes her mind. 

Bernie chuckles, a sound Serena has mainly heard in her ear when proving to be too impatient in bed. 

“Are you in bed?” Bernie asks then. 

“Yes.”

“Good. Are you still wearing your dress?” 

Bernie’s voice is deep and calm, similar to her doctor voice, but with undertones Serena is intimately familiar with. 

“I just took it off. I, um, I’m just in my underwear,” Serena says a little shakily. 

She hears a deep sigh and smiles. Bernie is very fond of her lingerie, the lacier the better. Another welcome discovery. Bernie clears her throat. 

“Do you remember the first time we operated together?” 

Serena feels her eyebrow rise. This isn’t where she thought the story would start. She’d imagined a day when she’d worn something especially pretty. Not a day she remembers for being exhausted. Jason has just moved in, Robbie had vanished without a trace, the coward, and Serena remembers feeling pretty overwhelmed about everything. 

“Yes, uh, Tony. The bailiff with a dog bite and a dodgy artery.” 

Serena smiles at how seamless the operation had been, how well they’d worked together, right from the start. 

“That’s right. And you were so confident in theatre. Told me you could do the procedure blindfolded. The swagger on you that day was something to behold,” Bernie says, a little breathless. 

Serena blushes, feels warm. 

“Ah yes? You…you like that?” Serena asks, her fingers playing with her pendant. 

“Oh yes, Serena. And I remember sitting there, looking at you, and thinking ‘she’s beautiful’. Hit me like a ton of bricks.”

Serena raises her eyes to the ceiling, a little overwhelmed by the intense love blossoming in her chest. To regain her footing, she laughs. 

“Trust you to turn phone sex into a love declaration.” 

Bernie stays silent long enough for Serena to worry she’s offended her. 

“But you are so beautiful, Serena. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And I miss you, so much,” Bernie says, her voice cracking on the last word. 

Serena closes her eyes, the hand holding the phone trembling slightly. She’s never been one for clichés, had rolled her eyes when her school friends had mooned over the boys from across the street, but Bernie makes her want to quote poetry she has long forgotten. 

She’s been called beautiful before, but Bernie makes it sound like all the others were lying, like Bernie is the first one to truly see her. 

“Oh me too, darling,” she replies in a heartfelt whisper. 

“And I miss all of you. Your wit, your warmth, your strength. And I would kill to have you in theatre with me again. But sometimes…” Bernie trails off and Serena grins. 

“Sometimes what you miss is a little more…basic?” Serena guesses. 

Bernie sounds like she’s relieved she didn’t have to spell it out. 

“Why don’t I tell you a story of my own? You just lie back and enjoy the show,” Serena purrs. 

There’s a small gasp on the other end, and a few rustling noises.

“Ok, I’m…I’m lying down,” Bernie stutters. 

And what a vision she must be, Serena thinks, her heart going fast. Bernie likes to sleep in a tank top and shorts, and that always gets Serena going. The toned arms, the long legs, the almost feline quality to Bernie’s body. 

“Do you remember the day I resigned from the deputy CEO position?” Serena starts innocuously enough. 

“Yes. Busy day. We opened the trauma unit and then Jason came in,” Bernie replies instantly. 

Serena smiles. She wonders if Bernie remembers all their interactions because she sure does. From the first meeting in the car park to their last phone call. 

“That’s the one. We ended up at Albie’s for a drink to celebrate my newfound freedom. And I was so happy, and I realised it was because I was with you. I felt so good because you were sitting next to me. And the way you were looking at me…” Serena drawls, getting worked up herself and enjoying the murmurs of approval coming from Bernie. 

The scene is still so vivid. How beautiful Bernie looked, her hair like a halo. How fine her hands were cradling her wine glass. The heat in her eyes. Serena feels the familiar tug of desire low in her belly, just as she did that night. 

“I went home after and my head was all over the place. I felt so unsettled and raw. I kept thinking about you. About how you’d helped me without being asked, how the day had ended so well thanks to you. I remember realising how very important you were to me, and that I should get you coffee the next day, or flowers, or anything really, to keep you with me.” 

Serena’s heart is racing at the memory. She’d felt like a teenager, anxious and elated at once. Bernie is breathing a little louder, obviously enjoying how low Serena’s voice has got. 

“And then I went to bed, still all jittery. So I did what I usually do in those situations,” Serena says with a raspy chuckle. 

Bernie gasps and Serena hears a muffled curse. 

“I tried the usual fantasies, but nothing was working, and you were still on my mind, so beautiful, and you had cared for me so well, and in no time at all you were above me, looking at me like you wanted to eat me alive,” Serena all but moans. 

“Christ, Serena,” Bernie whimpers. 

And Serena can picture her writhing in bed, a hand down her shorts, the other teasing a nipple, her body stretched out and craving pleasure. She lets her own hands explore, wedges the phone between her shoulder and her cheek to help. Her skin is sensitive and flushed and she cries out when she palms her breasts. 

“I imagined kissing you. I knew you would be so good at it. And it set my body on fire. I had never felt like this, so turned on and eager,” Serena continues, her hands trailing down her body, teasing like she teased herself that night. 

Bernie is definitely getting into the swing of things. Her little pants are making Serena crazy. She chokes on a gasp when she finds herself slick and swollen, Bernie’s whimpers in her ear. 

“I did not last long,” Serena enunciates carefully. 

Bernie moans. 

“All I had to do was picture your head between my thighs and I came so hard that I saw stars,” Serena says, her voice deep. 

There’s a strangled shout on the other end that Serena knows very well, and she lets herself go, her back arching off the bed, her hand buried between her legs, her pleasure white hot and burning. 

They listen to each other breathe for a while. Serena puts a shaky hand on her sternum and licks her dry lips. This isn’t the first they have done this, but it’s still mind blowing to hear Bernie get herself off, to know that she trusts Serena that much to let go and to let her mind do the work. 

“You wonderful, wonderful woman,” Bernie finally says, her voice languid and happy. 

Serena can picture her stretching like a cat, a satisfied smile on her face. Three months, Serena reminds herself, only three more months until she can kiss Bernie and hear those delightful whimpers in person. 

She can hardly wait. 

“Think you’ll be able to sleep?” She asks with a smug smile. 

Bernie chuckles, still catching her breath. 

“So wonderful, yet so cheeky,” Bernie amends. 

Serena slips under her warm duvet and turns off the light. She snuggles into a comfortable position, hugs a pillow and closes her eyes. Bernie tells her about her day, and Serena falls asleep listening to tales of a faraway land that is heated by an unforgiving sun and that is the home of a proud and resilient people. 

5.

Serena reclines in her desk chair and accepts a cup of tea from Fletch. They’ve been going over nurses’ rotas for the best part of an hour, and they both deserve a break. The sun is setting and her office feels warm in the red light. Fletch looks tired and a little sad. Serena has heard the rumours, but she won’t push. 

“How’s my favourite future F1?” She asks instead after her first sip. 

Fletch’s face lights up, his fingers playing with his tie. It still takes her aback to see him in a suit. How they have changed and grown these last few years, Serena muses. 

“Doing great in school,” Fletch says proudly. “She loves biology, and I’m not pushing of anything, but I think she might enter the family business.”

Serena feels a warm glow at how Fletch pointed to himself and then her. Evie does feel like her AAU niece, negotiating adolescence and needing all the support possible. She makes a mental note to arrange a shopping day, or a surgery workshop, whatever Evie wants. 

Fletch falls silent, his eyes downcast. Serena puts her elbows on her desk and leans forward, her face open and free of judgement. 

“Everything ok otherwise?” She asks gently. 

She is reminded of how gentle Raf had been when Bernie had absconded to Ukraine. She remembers how desperate she’d been to talk to someone. Fletch shrugs and clears his throat. 

“She’ll be back, you know. It’s only one month,” Serena says very softly. 

Fletch’s head snaps up and he looks at her with wide eyes. Serena puts a hand up. 

“Don’t worry. It will stay with me,” she promises. 

Fletch is silent for a little while, but then he seems to make up his mind. 

“I miss her,” he says simply. 

Serena’s eyes are very kind, and she wants to reach out and hug him, but stays on her side of the desk. 

“I know. I know you do,” she replies. 

It takes a minute, but Fletch’s eyes fill with understanding. 

“Yeah. Your one did a bit of a runner too, didn’t she?” Fletch says with a smile. 

Serena snorts. Understatement of the year, she thinks and spares a glance towards the photo on her desk. 

“Yes. But she came back. And Jac will come back too,” she says firmly. 

Fletch looks a bit better already. 

“Yeah? You think so?” 

His voice is so full of hope it breaks Serena’s heart. She vows to drag Naylor back to work kicking and screaming if necessary. 

“You have high connections now Mr Fletcher. I shall let you know if anything changes,” she promises with a raised eyebrow. 

Fletch is smiling now, and he nods. He is about to stand up when Serena’s laptop comes to life. The familiar Skype ringtone sounds and Bernie’s face flashes on the screen. Fletch smiles and gets up to leave but Serena gestures for him to come round her desk. She clicks on the answer button and Bernie appears behind her desk, still in scrubs despite the late hour. 

“Hello darling, I have Fletch with me,” Serena says warmly.

Bernie’s face opens with a toothy smile. Fletch waves, delighted, and they are soon catching up. Fletch seems impressed by the medals on show behind Bernie’s head, and squeaks out a laugh when Bernie makes him promise to look after Serena. He makes a swift exit after that, no longer looking like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“Please don’t scare my Director of Nursing, darling. I need him and he’s doing a rather good job,” Serena says dryly. 

Bernie holds up her palms in surrender. Her scrubs are an attractive navy blue, very reminiscent of her trauma scrubs and Serena feels a pang of longing. 

Bernie is in the middle of telling her about an emergency laparotomy when Serena hears a knock on Bernie’s door. She sees Bernie frown then smile, and gesture for someone to come stand next to her. A young man appears, also in navy scrubs, and he smiles an infectious grin when he sees Serena. 

“Serena, this is Samuel,” Bernie introduces. 

Samuel waves excitedly and Serena is strongly reminded of Jasmine and Morven and their joy for life. 

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Samuel says. “Dr Wolfe carries a photo of you in her wallet, you know.” 

Bernie shoots him a glare that he ignores. Serena laughs, delighted. 

“Does she, now? Well she told me you do the same with Esther,” Serena replies without missing a beat. 

Samuel turns to Bernie, his posture screaming betrayal. Bernie gives him a smug look, her eyebrows raised. He snorts. 

“And in her locker,” he adds, but it’s with a fond smile and Bernie rolls her eyes, only just a little embarrassed. 

“Yes, yes. Did you need me for something, Dr Maina?”

Samuel nods and instantly becomes the consummate professional Bernie has described. There’s something about bloods and a follow up, and Bernie signs in a file. 

“It was nice to meet you, Dr Campbell,” Samuel says when they’re done. “I hope you’ll visit us in Nairobi soon.” 

What a charming young man, Serena thinks. 

“I certainly hope so,” she replies. 

Bernie signed a yearlong contract, the very one Serena also meant to sign before Henrik called. They’ve agreed that Bernie should see the year out, and then they’ll reassess, see how Jason is doing, and decide the next step. 

Samuel waves goodbye and leaves, Bernie watching him go with a fond smile that Serena has seen directed at the younger members of their family. 

“Speaking of visiting, you got my email with my flight details?” Bernie asks when the door shuts behind Samuel. 

Only two weeks to go, Serena thinks with a smile. Greta is as big as a house and if all goes to plan, Bernie’s month home will coincide with the birth of their great-niece. It’s all very exciting, and a bit scary, and Serena has tried not to buy too many baby clothes or toys, but has so far failed to restrain herself. 

A little girl. A brand new life. Serena fully intends to be as present and involved as possible, but she’s very happy Bernie will be there at the start of what is sure to be quite the emotional roller coaster.

“Yep. June 24th. Expect a banner and confetti at Arrivals, Ms Wolfe,” Serena says with a smile.

“Your wonderful self shall suffice, Ms Campbell,” Bernie replies in a falsetto voice. 

Serena snorts. She’s planning on running into Bernie’s arms the very second she sees her, decorum be damned. 

“I’m glad. Listen, I’ve got to finish this thing with Fletch. Will you be home 10pm your time?”

“I have nothing planned but a goat curry and some paperwork,” Bernie replies with a smile. 

“Such a glamorous life you lead,” Serena jokes. 

“Not a bad one, though,” Bernie replies, her eyes soft and loving. 

Serena leans forward, and she must look like a loved up teenager but she doesn’t care. 

“No, a very good one actually,” she confirms softly. 

And it is. A good life. It might be hard at times, and it has thrown them a few curve balls, but they have each other, and who can truly say they have found the love of their lives? As Serena looks at hers, she feels very lucky indeed. 

Just as things might get truly soppy, a cat suddenly jumps onto Bernie’s desk. Serena’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Bernie goes pink. The cat is black and looks at Serena imperiously, its eyes the colour of jade. 

“Is that the…?” Serena starts to ask, eyes wide. 

“Oh wow, look at the time! Really must get on! Speak to you later, bye! Love you!”

And the connection goes dead. Serena looks at her screen, stunned. Then she starts to laugh. A true belly laugh that has her eyes leaking tears. 

Long distance might have its obvious drawbacks but it sure keeps things interesting. One call at a time.


End file.
